


Sugar Baby

by hellotweetygirl



Category: SHINee
Genre: Fluff, Gen, just kibum being a brat, not actually a sugar daddy fic, someone has someone wrapped around their finger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:18:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9495461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellotweetygirl/pseuds/hellotweetygirl
Summary: When Kibum decides he's going to get something he always gets it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This fic has been sitting on my hard drive for six months and it was finally time to dust it off! Also, this fic needed to happen because minkey is cute, minkey shopping is cuter, and minkey arguing in Wonderful Day about shopping is the cutest. And thus fic was born…

He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew exactly what he wanted- and when he wanted something he got it. He stooped and peeked through the gap under the door to make sure that the pair of feet on the other side was still there. Satisfied that they were he took one more look into the mirror and with a smirk flung open the door with a flourish. The loud bang as it bit the wall and bounced back startled the boy slouching against the opposite wall, iPod in hand. He straightened, and with a tug he pulled the buds from his ears. Kibum began to parade up and down the tiny dressing room hallway as if it was the Paris fashion week runway making comments and showing off particular details as he went. The tall boy with the big eyes followed it all and smiled indulgently, though not particularly interestedly.

Well, the exasperated mercenary huffed, that had to change.

Kibum sidled up to the other boy and began picking cautiously at the vintage grey cardigan that hung limply off of his frame. The sweater hung around his collarbones, hanging halfway to his knees and covering the scandalously short shorts he wore making it appear that he was wearing the cardigan and little else. He coyly started murmuring little snatches of self-deprecating misgivings about the wisdom of his fashion choices, pouting up at his friend from time to time wielding the carefully honed innocence that he practiced in the handling of the younger boy. 

The other boy raised a curious eyebrow and reached forward and began adjusting and fixing and primping him up offering advice as he went. It made the fashionista smile inwardly and he knew that in securing Minho’s attention and advice he had him right where he wanted him. With a flutter of eyelashes and a bashful word of thanks the whirlwind that was Kibum was flouncing back into the dressing room. He redressed and toted out an arm load of clothes and, remarkably, began putting them back on the racks. He could feel the absolute confusion rolling off of the tall shadow looming behind him but pressed forward until he was halted with the firm grip of a large warm hand on his wrist. The questioning eyebrow was again raised to him and was sufficient for communicating all that really needed asked. Kibum rolled his eyes and heaved a dramatic sigh before offering his explanation.

“I told you I just wanted to go window shopping,” he said lightly.

“Bum, window shopping stops when you’ve put on the clothes”.

“Well…maybe,” he conceded, shrugging and quirking his head. He continued what he was doing and momentarily parted company with a particularly colorful shirt only to have it picked up again by Minho. The hand returned to halt his movements and forced him to face the taller boy. He knew how to best play this home stretch and waited a beat with his eyes glued to the floor before looking up into kind and confused eyes.

“I already maxed out my card for the month,” he confessed in a rush. He held his breath and waited, trying to not gnaw off his bottom lip as his fate hung in the balance. 

Minho’s full lips pursed and then grimaced. He shoved the shirt into Kibum’s arms then wide hands were coming up and splaying through the soft strands of his hair to place his head in a vice like grip.

“When will I ever stop falling for this?!” he moaned, his eyes widening and approaching epic proportions. Kibum’s eyes twinkled in return. Minho sighed theatrically and gathered up the trail of discarded treasures and marched to the front of the little shop pulling out his own card and handing it to the girl behind the counter with a rueful smile. “We’ll be taking all of this please.” He looked back and threw a ‘you coming?’ look at Kibum.

The boy just laughed. Gotcha.


End file.
